


Out Sick

by sryr



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blowjobs, Dubious Consent, Emotional self harm, Exhibitionism, Hate Sex, Incest, M/M, Manipulation, One-Sided Attraction, Trans Tim Stoker, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26134636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sryr/pseuds/sryr
Summary: Elias decides to have another chat with Tim after his attempts to further test the limits of avoiding work don't turn out how he hopes they will.
Relationships: Danny Stoker/Tim Stoker, Elias Bouchard/Tim Stoker
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Out Sick

**Author's Note:**

> couple of elaborations on warnings:
> 
> -i chose to stick to the dubious consent tag for two reasons: tim explicitly in this interpretation uses sex as a coping mechanism, and in this instance does not want or expect it to be loving or necessarily pleasant. as such, he goes along with aspects they did not discuss beforehand, which is not necessarily consent, though he does not say no to them. 
> 
> on top of this, there is an instance where he rescinds his initial consent out of irritation, but it is because he assumes elias has stopped moving things in that direction, and instead is going to just torture him with memories like he has heard happen to others. when the sex is brought back on the table, he is fine with it. however, if the notion of it being noncon bothers you, i wanted to warn for that instance.
> 
> -tim has one sided feelings towards danny. elias uses this secret against him. that is the extent of it.
> 
> -the knifeplay is extremely minor with very little actual injury
> 
> -words used to discuss tim's genitalia: cock, and folds 
> 
> -final final warning, if you are for some reason hate reading this, i implore you to do something better; i tried to be as explicit as i could regarding warnings. for those of you here otherwise, enjoy!

“So what d’ya have for me boss?” Tim asks, closing the door to Elias’s office, and it’s a wonder that he can still look this nonchalant about the matter. Elias knows he’s not a foolish man—their meeting doesn’t bode anything well, but perhaps that bravado and ease is simply something that comes natural. A well-worn mask.

“Please, take a seat. I had just wanted to have another chat as I believe I advised you that it would be _unwise_ to attempt any more leaves of absence.”

“Mm, see I figured if I could see just how long it took before the awful bits kicked in, I could avoid any more instances like last time. Can see now that still isn’t really doing it for you though, is it?”

Elias sighs and straightens his posture, staring Tim down from the seat across him, but never once displaying the irritation he’s holding. Even now, he can hear the taunting claim waiting to fall from Tim’s lips. He can’t fire him, they both know that. He can, however, remind him why he’s even here.

“Tim, you wouldn’t really want me to fire you. In all that rage, surely you haven’t forgotten.”

For the first time since their earlier conversation, Elias watches Tim’s face drop from plastered on smile, barely containing the raw disdain he carried, to that small wounded and confused stare. It makes Elias smile.

“You were quite happy with your previous job and I told you initially it was a little odd to see someone switch so suddenly, but after the ordeal you went through, it wasn’t too surprising. Like most people who come here, you were looking for answers; and considering you didn’t offer your own statement, I thought it rude then to say anything. However, since you seem a little… lost at the moment I decided to rethink my decision to tell you. It’s about the Stranger that took your precious Danny.”

He watches Tim’s knuckles tighten against the arms of the chair he sits in. His face flickering rapidly between that confused anguish and bitter despair that Elias can’t help drink in.

“While we’re at it, why don’t we _talk_ about Danny.”

“What’s there to say? You apparently _know_ everything.”

Elias’s eyes flash dangerously at that.

“Please keep up Tim, as I said this is a reminder for you. I have watched your hapless attempts to research the Circus for years, and while those efforts have proved helpful in terms of steering Jon in the direction he needs to go, with how reckless you’ve gotten I would rather you not involve yourself further.”

Tim scoffs and Elias feels how he relishes and holds tight the ignition of anger flaring up again. Anything to chase away all that grief he’s never going to process. “Right, for _Jon_. All assistants are good for, right? Just cannon fodder in whatever messed up scheme you have going.”

“It’s a shame really that he came to distrust you so heavily. He’s not nearly as clever in piecing these things together, but well…” Elias raises his hands as if to say _‘what can you do?’_ before circling back to what he intended to say.

“As much as you love your brother, killing the Stranger won’t bring him back. And it certainly wouldn’t make him love you the way you wish he had either.”

All at once, a haphazard set of old fantasies flash in Tim’s mind. His brother’s laugh, phone calls where Tim has to carefully restrain his voice from sounding too breathy, the photos he only kept because really when did he get to see his brother anymore— _he’s being left behind, but it’s okay because he’s so proud and loves him, loves him, loved him._

“What’s—even the point?” Tim gets out between breaths, choking back tears. “One minute you’re spouting this bullshit and what? The next forbidding me from even coming along?”

“Sometimes points need to be made thoroughly or they lose meaning. My last conversation with you on these matters didn’t seem to stick, so I decided to take tactics I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.”

“Oh, please. Stop trying to bullshit me like you aren’t having the time of your life right now. Message loud and clear boss; come to work and keep my nose stuck in research only,” Tim answers him and the vitriol in his tone would be easy enough to ignore if it weren’t for how blatantly he’s lying. That won’t do.

“Now, now Tim. If it would help, we could find a different way to help deal with some of this _tension_. It really doesn’t make for a good work environment,” Elias mocks, driving his point home. “It’s been a while since you’ve last dipped into your usual indulgences hasn’t it?”

It’s clear Tim wants to rebut with how hardly his attitude is the problem, but Elias is once more dropping images before him, mixed, hazy and overlapping. Fantasies of Danny, fantasies of Elias, the former sometimes sweet and loving, the latter angry and biting. There’s guilt there too though, the knowing his desires were wrong and too much and it’s no wonder Danny has been more distant, he must see he must _know._

Elias finds it enticing having such a delicious secret peeled back before him. It’d been there all along, but Tim hadn’t required this much attention and so it went unnoticed until now.

“You’ve got to be joking that’s—” Tim barks out a laugh, and shakes his head. “Fine, y’know what actually, _fine_.”

Sure enough, he’s standing, and with the practiced ease of someone who has done so many times before, deftly undoing the buttons of his dress shirt.

“Sure hope you had nothing else on your schedule this morning. I doubt even you could have orchestrated this much. Ah, yes a little chat with Tim, also remember to pencil in a quick fuck as well.”

“Are you always this crass with your hook ups?” Elias asks, though makes no genuine attempt to admonish Tim for his language. There isn’t a point to, and he’s busy watching the show.

“Why don’t you look and see for yourself? Voyeurism seems like it’d be your speed, am I wrong?”

Elias laughs at that and doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even move to stop him as Tim impulsively shoves things off his desk ignoring the loud clatter of a stapler and cup of pens topple to the ground. He flashes him a daring look as an empty mug goes next, the ceramic shattering in shards across the carpet, but Elias simply smiles at him. It’s a show of anger and brilliantly human as it’s chased quickly by fear in how little of a response Elias is giving. The anticipation of what could be next is killing Tim, truly, but he can’t stop himself from being a spectacle.

Clad only in boxers by this point, he perches himself on the corner of the desk he’d cleared and stares down Elias waiting to see what he’ll do and repressing the way his body wants to shake with adrenaline.

“Want me to start things off? Here I thought you were offering, but if you’d rather sit and watch…”

Elias does watch for a moment. With no word otherwise, Tim pretends he’s alone, despite meeting Elias’s gaze. He can see and hear loud and clear the confidence that he knows how to give a good show. However, there still remains the point of why and how this started, so Elias stands from his chair and almost chuckles at the inquisitive furrow of Tim’s eyebrows as he walks around the desk and away from him. Among the fallen office supplies, Elias finds his letter opener and turns back tutting when he sees Tim has stopped and is now staring.

“I don’t believe I said for you to stop Mr. Stoker,” he says slowly, brandishing the letter opener. Tim’s eyes follow him carefully, wary. They widen as the blade takes perch just outside his thigh, the side of it not nearly as sharp as an actual knife, but it’s clear Elias keeps it in good condition. If he presses any harder, Tim is sure to bleed.

Even with that threat, he resumes playing with himself under his boxers, the fabric getting wetter. There is no sign of approval or disappointment in Elias’s eyes as he passively watches. Just the gentle, almost ticklish slide of metal against his thigh. Tim’s eyes slide shut, and he lets himself pretend. Indulge as he hasn’t in so long that the fingers playing with his cock, threatening to slip in between his folds belong to his brother who has been dead for four long years.

Sharp pain greets him as a thin slice appears on his thigh. The sting of it is startling and he once more looks to Elias to see what he’s apparently done wrong now, but the man’s smile explains nothing, only feels colder and emptier than before. Really, Elias doesn’t mind if Tim fantasies about someone else, it was the dismissal of what’s going on that gets to him. He is here to make Tim face reality.

“Do you want to know how he would touch you?” Elias asks, letting his free hand grip Tim’s other thigh, fingers skirting just below the hem of his boxers.

“Do you want to see for yourself what it was like?”

Another vision comes unwanted of his brother and another man in the shadow of a club. Tim remembers that night, remembers taking home a different man himself, and desperately wanted to ignore the similarities between the man and his brother. Of what he remembers between jealousy and a haze of alcohol, his brother’s lover for the night looked nothing like Tim—and frankly he doesn’t know if that makes it better or worse. Either way, it—

“…wasn’t you he took home that night.”

Tim had pushed that night out like all the others and every other time his brother had mentioned having a new date. After having him gone for so long, it wasn’t even what hurt most, but suddenly now all he can feel is that raw aching jealousy and inadequacy. He couldn’t have him and now Elias is trying to dissuade him from the last thing he felt he could do for his brother and it was bringing him to angry tears.

Frustration pools in Tim’s gut and Elias finds it entrancing. He kisses him then and isn’t surprised to be greeted with teeth. The kiss is messy and whether in pain, misery or pure anger Tim is pouring all he has into it which Elias drinks greedily. Tim is panting when they part and that fire is back, the fear chased down as if he’s processing again where they are and what they’re doing.

Elias has no intention of killing him—a fact Tim knows quite well. So with recklessness, he spits in the man’s face and readies himself to run, but Elias is faster. The letter opener clatters to the desk as Elias uses one hand to grip Tim’s hair and keep him in place while using the other to grip his thigh.

“What will make you calm down? How shall I make you behave?” Elias asks still sounding relatively calm, albeit condescending. He speaks to Tim as if he’s a misbehaving child. “Do you have any suggestions for me?” 

“Go fuck yourself! I’ve changed my mind, fuck this,” he yells and tries to pull away to no avail. It’s more than just Elias’s hands pinning him as he catches his gaze again.

“You’ve hardly let any of that anger go. It would reflect poorly on me to allow you to leave in such a state,” Elias explains, testing the waters as his fingers move from Tim’s thigh to slowly, so slowly, under his boxers. He’s still _quite_ wet.

His breath hitches and he stops trying to move. Doesn’t so much as melt into Elias’s touch as resign himself to it and it’s really all Elias is looking for. The unspoken acknowledgement that if he’s going to suffer in this office, he might as well get off on it to some degree.

“Is it really about pleasure for you? It’s a momentary distraction I suppose, but the imaginary closeness—the intimacy that isn’t real, isn’t that really what you crave?”

“No,” Tim grits out, a bold-faced lie. His hips gyrate chasing Elias’s fingers, and while he should punish him for his dishonesty, his body is agreeing so readily. For that reason, he finally slips one inside, unsurprised when Tim’s movement gets just a touch more frantic.

“Before your brother died, it was about replacement—after, distraction; an illusionary comfort. _Complicated grief_ ,” Elias punctuates his points with careful thrusts, pleased when Tim moans as his finger hits a particular spot.

“Y-You’re wron—”

“Am I? Do you want me to comfort you Tim? Do you want me to act like any of the lovers you’ve chased for even a scrap of peace?” The words are cruel and rhetorical. They both know that and Tim doesn’t bother answering him, only growing louder as Elias spreads him open further. His pace slows after a point though, evidently expectant. Acknowledgement is what Elias wants.

“I just want you to fuck me and let me get back to work. You asshole,” Tim grinds out slow and labored. Elias hears loud and clear. Danny is dead and Tim can’t do anything about that. Hasn’t been able to change it, wasn’t able to stop it, and now will probably never get to do anything to the people who did it.

His hopelessness about it is spiraling as misery climbs out. It brings back Elias’s smile and he removes his fingers entirely. 

“Easy now, we’ll get to that. Care to help me?” His grip in Tim’s hair had loosened when it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere, but his fingers tighten just a little and guide Tim closer to his belt. He levels a glare at Elias and does as suggested. 

Slowly, Tim raises his hands to unclasp the metal holding the belt up, thankful that Elias doesn’t make this aspect difficult too. It’s easy again to pretend he’s somewhere else and not on the head of the institute’s desk about to let a monster fuck him. He’s sucked plenty of cock that there is nothing special about Elias’s, and the man doesn’t take the thought he overhears to heart. Mainly because Tim has at least learned to keep his eyes open as he defiantly stares up and mouths the zipper down, showy and arrogant. A teasing bit of control Tim grasps at ignoring the hand on his head suggesting otherwise.

Elias almost finds it cute.

He strokes Tim’s hair approvingly and lets him get to work. A dozen different memories open up for Elias as he peruses Tim performing this same act. Sometimes more sultry, sometimes more loving, sometimes more gentle—he examines them and determines for Tim that for what they’re doing, guiding him by the hair actually would be preferable. The man beneath him moans as he slowly fucks his mouth. This isn’t about care or concern. This is about relief. This about anger and using and need and release. For Tim, he just wants this over with and Elias can respect that now that the message has been made loud and clear.

He’s drunk off the other’s anguish and increases his tempo just so as a reward. A thank you for the meal.

Elias allows himself to watch, enjoying the way Tim’s throat swallows around his prick and the moans he makes from the treatment vibrate along his skin. He keeps his thrusts even paced and watches carefully for Tim’s unspoken limits. It isn’t often Tim would seek this kind of experience it seems, and was desperately in need of someone to treat him this way.

Feeling sufficiently wet himself and not wanting the show to end too soon, he pulls Tim back.

“Lean back and I’ll be with you in just a moment.” Tim looks as if he’s about to say something, utter a complaint or an insult perhaps, but quiets and does as he’s told. Elias digs in a bottom drawer of the desk for a condom, and by the time he’s looked back up, Tim bent back at an odd angle and dropping his boxers off presumably on top of the pile with the rest of his clothes.

He’s absolutely dripping on the part of the desk he’s seated on and idly Elias has the notion he should make Tim clean it up. There’s no time for that though, so he merely works at rolling on the condom and waits for Tim to situate himself.

Half with the intention of increasing anticipation, and half out of admiring the view, Tim breaks the silence, impatient at Elias not moving. “Well?” 

“Eager are we?” Elias teases, finally reaching for the other’s hips. Tim scoffs.

“Sorry, you aren’t the type I typically beg for, though that seems your _thing_ ,” Tim whines the last word as Elias begins to enter him.

“You have a lot of presumptions about what I’d find enjoyable.”

He’s flashed a look clearly stating how Elias already must know what Tim has thought about, and on that same note, he pushes in the rest of the way. The thing is Tim isn’t wrong either. As evident of his statement, the longer he waits there not moving, the more Tim squirms his hips trying to fuck himself for the both of them.

“I get it, you’re a bastard, just _fuck me_.”

So Elias does as Tim requests, since he asked so nicely. Tim isn’t given much time to adjust, but he doesn’t want it to be gentle. It doesn’t hurt necessarily, but he knows he’ll feel it tomorrow. Elias watches as he shifts to grip the edge of the desk with one hand, inching closer to wrap his legs around Elias’s waist better and force the man deeper.

Tim swears and Elias watches. As his movements grow more erratic, Elias grips his hips again, a thumb smearing the small beads of blood from the cut he’d made earlier over Tim’s thigh. Tim shivers under his touch and soon enough he’s sitting up better, reaching to tug at the man’s tie and draw him into another rough kiss.

His moans are louder like this and his shaking gets worse. Elias knows he’s close.

Soon enough, he feels Tim’s legs grip him tighter, and feels the way he’s clenched around. With one cruel reminder, Elias fucks him through his orgasm, and shows him an image of one of Danny’s former lovers experiencing a similar sensation. Tim is loud as he comes. He’s out of tears, otherwise, Elias knows he’d be crying again.

From that alone, Elias follows after him, letting out a quiet sigh from his own release and forced to wait until Tim unlatches himself as he comes down, exhausted.

The mess on his desk is certainly worse and Elias does not offer any support as Tim struggles to stand on shaky legs. Their conversation has been deemed done and with sheer determination he’s eager to leave.

“There is that better? Unfortunately, I cannot offer you much in terms of time off for recovery—you’ve already used all your allotted time for the quarter.”

“Got it. I’ll take my bathroom break and get right back to work,” Tim replies scorn in his voice as he tries to shuffle back into his clothes. He’s going to try and leave early regardless considering the state of his underwear and perhaps it is a small mercy that Elias feigns ignorance.

The door to his office closes with a quiet click. With the situation resolved, he starts the painstaking task of cleaning himself and his office up as well as seeing how Jon is coming along. Timothy Stoker will likely still remain a _problem_ , but for a little while, it will not impede his plans. If it starts to again, well, his doors are always open. 

**Author's Note:**

> as usual if there is something i failed to warn or tag for please feel free to tell me. there is. a lot in this fic and i hope i got all of it. i also only read this over a couple times so apologies for any typos.
> 
> double thanks to tim for taking the brunt of my negative headspace the last couple days and naoya for always giving enthusiastic support to my awful ideas.


End file.
